Tremors Zootopia
by DemonWriterX
Summary: In a town called Perfection, a small town in the middle of the Nevada Desert lives Nick Wilde and his friend Finnick, two of the only handy foxes in town. Dreaming big, the two foxes had been saving their money to leave Perfection but when animal-eating worms begin terrorizing the town, its up to Nick, to work together with the town folks to survive.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1. "Welcome to Perfection"

In a town called, Perfection, one would expect it to be a paradise, at least that's what Nick Wilde expected. When Nick and his mother first moved in, being a young pup he imagined it to be an oasis with pups the same age as him to play with. Instead, Perfection was a small, rickety town, in the middle of the Nevada desert, with the population of fourteen animals.

The town was built in 1889 for mining and was originally called "Rejection", which Nick thought the residents should have kept. Now, as an ex-mining town, it now held old buildings, a leaky water tower and only one convenience store within thirty miles, called Grey's Market. The store was the only place to get a cold drink, when the cooler is working. That's where Nick comes in. Over the years, Nick accepted his fate in the small town and after his mother died, he continued to stay, working in odd jobs, as a Handy-Animal, like fixing the cooler during the long and burning summer.

In a remote valley and in the flat-end of a rusty-blue pickup truck, laid a small tan fox. The fox was resting in his sleeping bag, outside of a farm where the dairy cows lived. Asleep, he failed to hear the small footsteps of his friend and partner, Nick Wilde, sneaking up on him. As a shifty fox, Nick was annoyed that his friend slept the whole night while he played look out for the nervous dairy cows and oxes. Nick lost in a game of rock-paper-scissors against him and now that it was morning, needed to wake up the quick-tempered fennec fox.

Nick tucked in his dirty white tee into his jeans before leaning against the edge of the truck, resting his paws on the cold metal. He looked down at his snoring companion and spoke in a smooth and quiet voice.

"Good Morning, Mister Sleepy-Head, this is your wake up call. Please move your tail." He said, and got no response, except more snoring. He sniffed and glanced at the cows, who woke up and were enjoying their breakfast in the dry pasture. He grinned when he got an idea. Nick climbed onto the truck's running board and began bouncing and shaking it violently, screaming as he does it.

"Stampede! Stampede! Finnick, get out of the way!" Immediately, as Nick predicted, Finnick woke up but constrained in the sleeping bag, tried to make a run for it. Instead, the small fox fell out, face-first, sleeping bag and all, with Nick laughing uproariously as Finnick widely tried to get out of the sleeping bag. Finnick managed to claw himself out and the fear in his eyes swiftly disappeared when he saw the motionless cows, eating hay in front of him. Finnick whirled and growled at Nick.

"You dumb piece of-!" Finnick stood up and dusted himself off before putting his sleeping back back at the bed of the truck. Finnick is what Nick called a drifter, going in and out of odd jobs like him. He lived in Perfection longer than Nick had by eight years, even if Finnick looked like a pup. His deep and rough voice always throws animals in a loop when they first meet him, when in fact, he is forty years old. Being older, he was the one who taught Nick everything in each odd job they bounce to. Finnick also tried to spread a little wisdom to Nick, but found out that he is a lost cause, since he refused to take his advices. Finnick snatched his boots from off the ground and slipped them on.

"I was in a stampede once." Finnick began as he grabbed his hat from off the truck. "Over 300, and that little joke of yours was not funny, Nick!" He said sternly and put on his hat, to shield himself from the warm rays. Nick chuckled when he jumped off the truck and leaned against its frame.

"So how many cows make a stampede, Finny? Three, four, is there a minimum of a stampede?" He asked with a grin, not even trying to hide his sarcasm. Finnick snorted.

"I hope a stampede runs over your tail." Finnick retorted as he dug his paws into his brown, worn out coat, taking out a pack of cigarettes. Immediately, Nick pulled out his silver lighter holding it up to him as if it was a grand prize. Finnick rolled his eyes. Each of the two had half of what the other wanted, Finnick had the cigarettes and Nick had the lighter. When Finnick traded him one of his cigarettes, Nick thanked him by lighting up Finnick's before lighting up his own. With a sigh, he jumped back on the truck, taking in the nicotine and blowing it out in a puff a smoke. Nick adjusted his white cowboy hat and slipped on his jean-vest before taking a few puffs of his cigarette.

Finnick glanced around their small campsite and noticed that something was missing when he picked up the empty metal coffee mug.

"You didn't make breakfast?" He asked with the cigarette in between his fingers.

"I did it yesterday." Nick replied in a matter-of-factly tone. "It was cricket and beans." Finnick placed the cigarette back in between his lips as he stared off into the horizon, trying to recall the past twenty-four hours.

"No…" He began and turned back to Nick. "It was eggs, I made the eggs."

Nick scoffed. "Like hell you did, it was cricket and beans. Are you trying to hustle me? It's your turn."

Finnick smirked and raised a fist up to Nick. "Nope." he replied. "But let's make a bet, loser makes breakfast." He said. Nick scowled and let out a huff before putting up his own fist. They shook their fists up and down three times before moving their fingers to signal their final answer. Nick pulled out paper and Finnick pulled out scissors. Nick's paw fell in defeat and took a deep breath of his cigarette as Finnick snuffed out his.

"Well, I guess when I was your age, I forgot too." He smirked and placed the coffee mug into Nick's arms. Nick gave him a scowl before walking off to make their breakfast as Finnick fell back to enjoy another few minutes of sleep. Now that they finished their job with the dairy cows, after watching them over because they felt uneasy, were paid and the two foxes moved on to their next job. Fixing fences, barb wired and all.

"Ow! Gosh-!" Nick turned when he heard Finnick let out an array or profanity from having stabbed his sensitive paws against the needle like barbed wires. Finnick cast aside the gloves to tend to his wounds as he hissed in pain. "This isn't a job for an intelligent animal."

Nick sniffed when he finished wrapping the loose wire around the wooden post. "Why don't you find me one and I'll ask him."

"Haha. Ha." Finnick said. He wiped the sweat off his brow and kicked the dirt in frustration. "If we were really serious with our money, we would quit being hired foxes!" He exclaimed while he helped Nick hammer in the wire into the wood post.

"Handy Foxes, Finny. We are "handy" foxes." Nick corrected, tapping the head of the hammer against the nail as he said it.

"Yeah, yeah...one of these days, we're going to find some real employment."

"And give up all this personal freedom?" Nick replied, motioning to the hot and desolated valley.

"I'm serious, maybe...maybe we should open a popsicle shop, a traveling one."

Nick snorted at the idea. "Sure, or maybe an amusement park." He slammed the hammer down on the nail head and once the wires were in place, they packed their tools in their non-air conditioned truck to their next assignment.

Nick held tightly onto the steering wheel as he drove over the rocky terrain before driving up to the smooth dirt road. Clouds of dust covered the windshield, and their lungs, making the two foxes cough slightly, before the dust settled and disappeared into the hot air. Nick glanced at Finnick, who was sitting on a pile of phone books, to reach Nick's eye level and to see over the dashboard. Finnick was reviewing a sheet of paper that held their list of jobs they have to complete.

"What's the agenda today?" Nick asked in a dull tone. His life was starting to feel repetitive. Doing all of the same jobs over and over again, was making him become stale. Being paid less of how hard they work didn't help soften his boredom. He did not enjoy that, which made his desire to leave fester inside him.

"Garbage Day." Finnick replied, he turned with a brow raise when Nick let out a groan.

"Garbage Day?-I hate that day, how much are we getting paid?"

"Fifty bucks. That's forty six dollars more than what we got last time."

Nick bit his cheek and strummed his fingers on the wheel. "What if we move that to aluminum day? They're in the same junkyard."

Finnick slammed the paper down over his lap and whirled at him. Nick held back rolling his eyes for the rant he was about to receive.

"Damn it, Nick!" Finnick began harshly. "We don't pick the days, Lionheart won't be here tomorrow, and I don't need to remind you that he is the one that is paying us. If we don't do it today, we don't get paid!" The truck rocked making them bounce slightly in their seats as Nick drove down the lonely road towards the town. He squinted his eyes as the sun's glare was beginning to affect his sight but his hearing was working perfectly from Finnick barking into his ear.

"You need to be smart, the more money, the faster we can get out of this place."

"Yeah, yeah." Nick replied, breathing out a sigh. His eyes suddenly shifted to an object in the vass desert. From driving for year, he knows when something is out of place, and what he saw was a red truck. His gaze slowly fell of a form walking out of the truck.

"Hey...is that whats-his name?" Nick asked. There was a male college student who was out collecting plant species as his final project for months but Nick thought he left since he wasn't around for weeks. Finnick didn't bother looking up as he tried to come up with a schedule for their mountain of work.

"Uh...no, he left. This one is the new one they sent over."

Nick's ears immediately went up. "Wait...it suppose to be a girl." He turned the wheel making a hard left, leaving the smooth road and onto the rocky terrain. FInnick lurched back in his seat, clutching onto the armrest from the sudden jolt of the vehicle. The truck shook them but that didn't bother Nick as he held a large grin and started putting out a list.

"I bet she has green eyes, beautiful red fur! A tail of temptation, long legs, and a great face!"

Finnick tightened his seat belt. "You and your stupid mating hormones!"

The truck stalled into a stop, right behind the red truck and next to what appeared to be the campsite. There was a yellow tent built for one, a smothering fire, and only one chair. Nick scanned the area and found her on the ground, tending to a small pit that held her equipment. He watched her stand up, with her ears raised up to the sky. His face fell when he noticed how long they were. Finnick couldn't help but chuckle when he saw a young female bunny, wearing male khakis, a red flannel shirt and a glob of white sunscreen over her nose.

The young bunny, who was in her mid twenties, walked up to them with a friendly smile.

"Hi!" She perked, putting out her paw towards Finnick, who shook her hand. "I'm Judy Hopps, I'm up here for the semester."

"Yeah, Geography right?" Finnick said.

"Geology." Nick corrected.

Judy opened her mouth. "Actually its Seismology, I'm studying earthquakes!"

Nick grinned. "That makes sense, since you're a bunny, is that why you're digging here?"

"Well sure, but just because we bunnies live in burrows doesan't mean anything. I just find Seismology interesting." She said, her face lighting up. "You must be Finnick and Nick, right? I heard all about you two."

"We deny everything." Finnick chuckled making her laugh at his small joke. Nick silently scoffed and shook his head.

"I actually got a question for you two, do you know that there anyone doing any drilling, or setting off explosives?"

"Around here?" Nick chuckle at her words. "No way, Carrots." Perfection didn't have anything important about it or in it. Tourists wouldn't even stay for a day, usually they drive right on through to the next town that had more to offer, like a working air conditioner. There was nothing in the land either, unless an animal wanted to live in isolation. There is no oil underneath the earth which makes it useless to the government.

Judy frowned.

"Well, I am monitoring these seismographs." She said. Finnick and Nick gave her a blank look which made her slowly explain. "They measure vibrations?"

Nick gently tapped Finnick in the shoulder. "Vibrations in the ground." He explained which made Judy smile at his understanding.

"Yes, and I have been getting these strange readings and I was wondering if you two had heard anything?"

Finnick tipped his hat at her. "We haven't but, we'll ask around to see if anyone else in town had heard something."

"I would appreciate that, I just hope it's not broken." She nervously said, looking towards her equipment. The school had the machines out in the desert for three years. Being out in the elements could have caused the machine to malfunction. Judy hopped that it was not the case. Finnick glanced at Nick, motioning his head at Judy while his eyes did the talking.

'Don't you want to say anything?' Nick gave him a look of disbelief, motioning back with his brows.

'No!'

They both turned back at Judy who at the same time meet their eyes, having not notice their silent conversation.

"Anyone, sorry to bother you two." She smiled, giving their car a tap before stepping back. Finnick smiled widely at her. Something about her made him instantly like her.

"No problem." He replied. Nick turned the truck back on and driving off. Finnick leaned his head out and waved his paw. "Nice meeting ya, see you around!" He called before sitting back against his seat. Judy waved back and watched them get back on the main road. She unconsciously touched her nose and gasped when she saw the white sunscreen on her fingers. The whole time she had been talking to them with sunscreen still on her face. It made her cheeks turn warm.

Finnick leaned his head back, feeling the wind of the open window brush against his fur.

"You know, if you want, we can ask about those seismographs thing?" Finnick said, turning his head lazily to Nick, who muzzle contorted, as if he smelled something awful.

"What do we know about that stuff?" He said bitterly, still disappointed that Judy wasn't a vixen. She was easy to look at, he could admit that. He noticed she had amethyst colored eyes, something that was quite rare to have. Most bunnies had green, brown, and gray.

Finnick shrugged. "Nothing, but it would be a nice way to get to know her better."

"Why would I waste my time doing that?"

"Damn it, Nick, you won't go for any girl unless she fits that list of yours!" Finnick put up his paw and counted down with his fingers, mockingly imitating him. "Vixen, red fur, long legs, great face-!"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Let's not forget dumber than my tail, like that vixen, Bobby Lynn Grounds."

Nick fumed and pulled down the truck's sunvisor, where he had a collection of photos of identical vixens that fit the description on his list and pointed to one in the middle.

"Tammy Lynn Grounds."

Finnick waved him away. "It doesn't matter, they were all dead weight. "Oh my nail, I broke it!", "Oh I can't work in these shoes!" " He said in a high pitched mocking tone of Nick's last mate.

Nick frowned. "I'm a victim of circumstance."

"Really? Because I thought you were being picky. Look, don't make the same mistake I made, kept looking for the perfect girl for years and you know where it got me?...to you."

This time Nick rolled his eyes. "Give me a break."

Well, you guys wanted it, so here it is!

I hope you all like it, please comment and tell me what you think of it so far!


	2. Chapter 2

After their meeting with Judy Hoops, Nick and Finnick pulled into the small town of Perfection and parked right outside the convenience store that was "Grey's Market". It was the only store in Perfection. The owner, Gideon Grey, another fox, was fair with his prices and everyone didn't complain but when it came to bargaining, he was a force. Nick couldn't remember how many times he traded something with Gideon, that seemed like junk to him, only to turn around and see Gideon turn it into a profit. He could recall one memory when he had turned eighteen and found a large refrigerator that could hold refreshments. Nick managed to fix it up, cover the rust with paint, and had it in perfect working condition. When Gideon noticed he offered Nick, one hundred and fifty dollars. Two weeks of working odd jobs and he would have never gotten close to that amount, without a second thought he sold it. The next day, he found out to his dismay that Gideon had been using it to store the alcohol and soda pops. Before, the animals were used to drinking their liquids warm, but once Gideon plugged in the machine he had made double of what he paid for it in one day. If Nick would have kept it, he would have gotten a business going and would have left Perfection within a year of savings.

The market was made out of wood and painted red, but over the years, the intense heat and constant dirt storms peeled and dulled the paint down. Even the logo that spelled "Grey's Market" in yellow, looked sick and nauseating. It was as if they were walking back in time to the Wild West.

Nick slammed the truck door close, not even bothering to lock it as he made his way to the market's porch and to escape into its cool shade. His eyes fell onto Weselton, a weasel who wore jerseys and shorts everyday, practicing with a basketball that needed to be pumped with air. He lived in an old trailer home, right in town, with fake grass and knickknacks thrown across the yard. He lived with his parents, which Nick thought was humiliating and sad since they constantly abandoned him to go to Vegas and gamble. Sometimes for weeks. To pass the time, Weselton dribbles with his basket and annoys the town with his stupid pranks.

Finnick cast a glare at Weselton, who was busy throwing the basketball onto Grey's truck to notice, until he was called out. "Hey you slimy weasel! If you touch this truck, you're dead!"

Weselton snorted, bringing the basketball to his chest. "Ooo, I'm shakin'!" He said in his nasally voice. Every time Nick heard it, he couldn't help but cringe. Once, Finnick saw him throw his basket ball right at their truck and broke their side mirror. He was so angry, Nick had to pull him away from Weselton in fear that he might break his bones. Instead, they agreed he'll work off the damage by helping in a few odd jobs to pay for it. Ever since then, if Weselton ever stood within ten feet of it, Finnick would run out and chase him off.

The loud squeaks of the door signaled everyone inside of their arrival. Gideon Grey, the pudgy owner was behind the counter, organizing and taking inventory, half-listening to one of his regulars. On the other side of the counter was the even pudgier Benjamin Clawhauser, the hefty cheetah and his wife, Honey Badger, a badger...which was obvious. She was dressed head-to-toe in camo gear and always had a gun on her. Honey and Clawhauser were two survivalists, they came to Perfection to await the upcoming apocalypse. They were a friendly couple but a little paranoid, who loved two things, their guns and their MREs (Meal, Ready to Eat). Clawhauser was counting bullets on the counter while his wife, Honey, was busy complaining about the cartridges that came in for them.

"No, Giddy, this isn't what I ordered. I ask for hollow points, these ain't hollow points." She said, pushing them away towards him. Once Gideon noticed Nick and Finnick, he immediately turned around and got them two cold drinks, placing them on the counter in front of two empty seats. Nick was glad to rest his tail and relax after a long morning. Clawhauser gave him a friendly smile as he puts the bullets away.

"Hey guys, what have you been up to?" He asked.

Nick took a sip of his soda before answering boredly. "Meet some college student, Julie."

His head jerked forward when Finnick slapped the back of his head.

"It's Judy. Judy Hopps. She is getting some strange readings on her little machines out there."

Honey Badger lifted her head up, eyes wide, which meant to everyone she was going to begin on a new conspiracy theory. "Shoot, well those kids might find oil or uranium out there! Next thing we'll know the feds will be knocking on your door saying "Sorry pack your bags!" and so begins...Primal War 3"

Clawhauser gently patted Honey's shoulder. "Down, Honey. Down."

Nick smirked, giving them a sleepy gaze. "Yeah, Honey, from the way you worry you might give yourself a heart attack before you get to survive Primal War 3."

Everyone laughed, while Honey gave him a patient smile. They had known eachother for years, close as most friends. Just then, the compressor of Grey's fridge let out a chugging and high pitch squeal. The fridge rocked from its own noise as if it was ready to explode or die on the spot.

"Hmm, must be the Bearing right Nick?"

"Must be." He replied, heading towards it. He had worked on that machine for months and considered it his greatest achievement but Finnick cut him off.

"But we can't fix it now, we got to get going to Lionheart's place."

Nick's shoulder sagged and turned back to the group. "Right. We got to get plan ahead. Finnick explained it to me." As they headed out the door, Nick noticed a beautiful, decorative piece of art made out of iron. It was in a shape of an ox head and attached to it was a price tag of thirty dollars. Nick pointed it out.

"Gideon, what is this?" He asked in disbelief.

Honey popped in. "Isn't it nice? We bought two and placed them in the rec room."

Nick's eyes lowered and went up to Gideon. In a low and quiet voice he whispered. "We sold them to you for three bucks a piece!"

Gideon responded with a deadpan look. "And I appreciate it, friend."

Nick, was once again, hustled out a large amount of cash because he thought he was hustling Gideon by selling it to him by twice the price he thought they were worth. They were ugly and worn, but Gideon managed to buff it out and make it into something desirable.

His envious thoughts were interrupted by the blaring alarm of their truck. Finnick and Nick ran outside to see a sulking weasel sneaking off with his basketball.

"Hey Weselton! What I told you about the truck!" Finnick shouted angrily, waving his fist towards him. Wesealton ears went back in fear and shook his head.

"I didn't do nothin'! Your truck is malfunctioning...or something."

Finnick snorted and waved him away, not wanting to deal with him. Nick chuckled when they went inside the truck.

"Why don't his parents ever take him to Vegas?" He asked, Finnick gave him a glance.

"Do you really have to ask that question?"

Nick put the truck in reverse. "Would save us some headache."

The loud rumple of the bulldozer shook in mighty vigor with Finnick on the wheel. Even if he was too short to reach the pedals, he compensated by maneuvering it with a broken broom stick. Nick was picking up the smaller garbage thrown about in Lionheart's backyard which served as a junkyard of sorts. The metal stays but paper and other unmentionables had to go. Nick had his nose and muzzle covered by a hoofkercheif, to block some of the dry manure-like smell. He picked up an old black garbage bag only to fall to pieces right on his feet. He let out a grunt and tossed the plastic down in frustration. It was time for a break.

Nick collapse on a broken down chair in the yard, marinating in the sun from the flood of sweat drenching his fur. He eyed Finnick lazily as he turned off the machine to join in. Nick reached inside a broken toilet taking out two cans of (very) warm sodas, tossing one to Finnick as he sat down on a abandoned couch next to him.

The click and sizzle of the cans filled the air, making Nick speak up.

"Well, I tell you something Finny...no animal pick up garbage better than we do." He said, glancing at Finnick, who took a sip from his can.

"Yup." He answered non chalantly.

Nick sighed. "Come on, this is low. We are better than this, garbage collecting? We have got to set out sights on something better."

Finnick rubbed his temple. "Anything is better than this, I admit, what you got in mind?"

Nick attached the septic tube into the open channel right outside Wesealton's family trailer home. The large rusted septic take rumple as it began sucking in large amount of feces that collected over the months. Finnick cranked the nuts and bolts into the tank, not wanting any cracks to show, to avoid any leaks.

"When you said we should do something else, I didn't expect this!" Finnick shouted over the heavy noise. "Hey Wesealton, why don't you help us out? This is your crap anyway!"

Wesealton was sitting on a plastic chair, watching the two foxes work. He ignored Finnick and turned to Nick. "Hey Wilde! Why don't you run to the store and get me a pack of beer, I'll pay ya when you get back."

Nick snorted as he walked back to Finnick. "Not on your life, Weselton!"

He lurched foreword almost losing his balance on his chair. "Wesealton! Duke Weseal-ton!"

Finnick had his arms crossed as he glared at Nick, normally they avoided this job for "obvious" reason. "This is "the" worst idea, you had ever had!"

Nick leaned back and crossed his own arms. "I don't see you coming up with any ideas! All you do is drag your little feet!" He said defensively.

Finnick growled and moved his paws to his waist, holding a dominant stance. Something that foxes do when trying to win an argument. Nick swiftly mimicked him, not wanting to stand down.

"Are you going to say that to my face, Wilde? That the reason we are still in Perfection is because of me? Do you know how close I am to leaving this place!"

"Alright I'll take that bluff, how close?"

Before Finnick had the chance to shout it out, the septic tank erupted, leaking right out of the hose and covering the two foxes in a shower of...unmentionable. The two foxes backed away from the onslaught of the spray but it was too late. Nick and Finnick shouted out curses and profanities while Wesealton pointed and laugh at their misfortune. Nick growled, that was his breaking point. He can be hustled out of a profit, he can be paid less than minimum wage, he can chop firewood but being covered by Wesealton's own dung? That was enough for him to finally leave.

Once cleaned up, scrubbed and sanitized, Nick packed their belongings into the back of the truck while Finnick strapped them in with cables. Leaving behind their small trailer home and other furniture they couldn't fit in the truck.

"Why are you bringing the vacuum cleaner?" Finnick asked as he jumped down from the truck.

Nick shoved the machine inside. "I like this vacuum cleaner." He retorted, opening the passenger side door.

"I never seen you use it!"

"It's good for parts!"

Finnick took the wheel and the foxes speed away down the dirt road. They agreed not to tell anyone of their leaving because it would cause them to try to keep the two in Perfection and even Nick didn't want to admit, that even though they appeared to be loners and shifty characters, but they were actually two softies. One ask and they'll accept, it was their greatest weakness and also if they get free food and drinks along with it. They drove down the town and they didn't want to stop until they saw a little shrew, waving them down frantically.

"Oh boy, there's Fru Fru, I'll notice that huge wig anywhere." Nick said, Finnick sighed and slowed the truck down.

"I bet she wants us to chop firewood again."

"You mean chop toothpicks?"

Finnick stopped the truck in front of their massive mobile home, they could never understand how a small shrew could live in a home 100 times her size. Nick got out of the truck to meet with Fru Fru, helping her climb on his paw to talk in eye level.

"Sorry Fru Fru, we aren't chopping firewood today, we're leaving town." He said with a smirk. His ears perked when he heard a small noise.

Boing. Boing. Boing.

He smiled when he saw Fru Fru's daughter, Mindy, bouncing on her pogo stick. Finnick leaned his head out when he heard the familiar noise. Her daughter, about ten years old, always had a number in mind to break her personal record.

"Hey Mindy!" Called out Finnick. "What's the count?"

"Six hundred and thirty-four!" She squeaked out, not losing any momentum.

Fru Fru tossed her hair back, placing her small paws on her hips.

"Oh sure!" She said in a high pitch voice, not believing them. They had said the same thing for years and they still stuck around. That was until she saw their belongings in the back. "Oh my stars! You are!"

Nick nodded still holding his grin, but Fru Fru glasp her little paws together.

"Oh but I need your help fellas! I have a big order to fill and I need to build a new pottery kiln! It will only be a month's work!"

"Sorry Fru Fru, we really can't!" Finnick replied, trying to stick to the plan.

"Well you heard him Fru Fru." Nick put her down, making her jump down to the ground. She dusted her working dress slightly.

"What if I throw in lunches?"

Nick gulped and turned to Finnick, he usually has the final say. Fru Fru noticed their hesitation and added. "And cold sodas." She said in a sing songy voice. Nick cringed at Finnick.

The truck raced down the dirt road with Finnick cheering behind the wheel with Nick laughing beside him.

"We did it! We beat temptation!" Finnick said holding the biggest grin Nick had ever seen. Nick leaned back, putting his paws behind his head.

"Never thought I see the day. We are finally free from this dump."

"You know it, it might be hard getting an apartment in the city but we'll figure something out."

"Oh right." Nick's ears lowered but he had a little bit of optimism. "I'm sure we won't live under a bridge."

Finnick sniffed and look ahead towards their new life. They were already 15 miles passed the line of Perfection and were already seeing signs of civilization, the tall power lines and towers stretched across the road. Finnick looked up at them as glimmering hope of a new life and saw a lone animal working on one of them.

"Now that's one job I will never do, anything around eletrictity." He said, pointing up to the figure as they drove right next to the tower.

Nick squinted his eyes through the glaring sun. "Hey, is that Bellweather?"

Bellweather was the bum of the town, she slept under the stars wearing the same wool coat everyday. She acted sweet most of the time but when she gets drunk, she goes on a massive rant against predators. "Predators must die! Prey will rule the races!" Nick thought that was a little strange but the townfolks just ignored her threats as a drunk's antics.

"Nah, couldn't be…" Finnick replied but he looked back up again. "How can you be sure?"

"No it's her! I know that coat anywhere! Hey stop the truck." Finnick rolled his eyes and scoffed.

"Can't believe this crap." He drove to the trunk of the tower and parked the truck. The two foxes got up and sure enough, they recognized the female sheep. Nick cupped his paws around his mouth and shouted.

"Hey Bellweather! What are you doing up there!"

Finnick scratched his head and yelled out. "Get down before you hurt yourself!"

Bellweather sat at the half point of the tower but it was at least a few floors high. Nick and Finnick glanced nervously at each other when they got no response from her. Finnick chewed the inside of his mouth as Nick rubbed the back of his head.

"Well...shoot, guess we have to leave her up there, let's go Finny." He said, heading back to the truck.

"Are you serious?"

Nick turned around. "I was just kidding! But...we can't leave her up there."

"Yeah...you're right, it wouldn't be right if we leave her. She's probably stuck."

"Probably."

They both stood side by side in silence until they meet eachother's eyes, each putting up a fist. With a few shakes, Nick threw scissors and Finnick threw rock. Nick tilted his head up at Bellweather.

"Thanks Dawn, thanks a lot." And he started climbing. He was muttering under his breath the whole time he climbed up. "Stupid racist sheep, have to drag my tail to drag yours down?...what bad luck. Right when I was leaving this dump."

He reached up on the bar right below Bellweather. "Alright, just take my paw and-!" He retracted his paw, almost losing his balance from the sudden shock. Bellweather was slumped against the metal bars, her mouth slightly open and her eyes dull. She sat motionless on the tower, dead.


	3. Chapter 3

"High Ground"

Their trip to freedom was now put on hold as they carried the body back into town. They went straight to the only doctor in Perfection, a black fox named Martin Declawe who lived near the edge of town. They pulled up in front of a trailer home, next to a skeleton of another home that Martin and his wife was building. Nick rushed to the door, placing his hat down over his chest in politeness for the dead and the harsh reality he was going to have to give. He knocked on the trailer door and waited.

The frail white, albino bunny opened the door, surprised to see Nick.

"Good afternoon, Nicholas, is something wrong?" she asked in a small voice, almost like a whisper.

Nick frowned and nodded. "Yes Ma'am, I am wondering if the doctor is here."

"Of course, let me call him." She turned her head back inside and mustered the loudest voice she could, which sounded more like anyone talking normally. Immediately, the black fox came to the door. The couple were old, past their prime, which is why they retired and moved into someplace more quiet. Martin Declawe was a tall fox, a few inches taller than Nick, with broad shoulders to show the hidden strength he has. In his younger years, he worked in the military and dabbled in Detective work before settling down as a medic.

Martin crossed his arms when he saw Nick.

"Yeah? What is it now, ya slacker, snapped your tail again?" he said in his gruff, mocking tone. Recalling the time Nick accidently got his tail in between the truck door, breaking the tip of his tail. It was an embarrassing day all around. Martha immediately tugged at his white sleeved shirt.

"Martin!" Martha said harshly to him, making his sigh heavily at her. "It seems important."

Nick put back on his hat. "There is someone I need to show you."

Martin snorted. "Alright, where are they?"

"In my truck…" His eyes darted to Martha and back to Martin. "Just for you, Martha should stay here."

Martha's ears went up in alarm and clutched Martin's arm, who had his eyes narrowed to Nick. The red fox cleared his throat nervously when Martin peered up to see Finnick, sitting in the back, next to a form underneath a large tarp. Martin's ears went back when Martha pulled his sleeve.

"Is it really that bad?" Martha asked. "M-maybe I should help, I'm sure I can-!" Martin removed her paw from his arm and stepped out.

"No, you stay here. It will be just a moment, Cottontail." Her paw reached out to him instinctively when he went next to Nick. He turned back to her, holding a small smirk.

"Don't worry, go back inside Sweetheart, I'll be back."

His smile gave her an instant relief and smiled back. "Well, alright-don't be out too long, we still need to set up the foundation of the house."

"Sure thing." Martin watched her close the door and immediately glanced at Nick. "Who died?"

He asked seriously as they walked back to the truck.

"It's Bellwether." Nick replied. "We found her outside of town, on one of those towers."

Martin hopped onto the back of the truck and moved the tarp. His face remained like stone as he looked at her sun-baked face. He hummed in interest and reached out with his fingers, moving her eyelid open. He opened her mouth next, and pulled out her tongue. Finnick immediately covered his own mouth in disgust. Martin placed the tarp back over her face and got down from the truck.

"What you think, Doc?" Nick asked.

Martin dusted his shirt and turned to him. "Dehydration."

"That doesn't make sense, it would at least take a couple of days right?"

"Maybe even three and four." He said solemnly.

Finnick spoke next. "Wait, you're telling us that Bellwether died, in three or four days, because of thirst?"

Nick scratched the back of his head, a feeling of dread filling his chest. "That doesn't make sense."

Martin buried his paws in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know what to tell ya, I'm not a mortician, but what I seen, my best guess in dehydration."

They couldn't bury Bellwether right away, not until the mortician in the next town could get a look at her. Nick could feel the truck's heaviness as he sat quietly in his seat as Finnick drove, heading straight out of town.

Finnick nibbled on his lower lip before breaking the silence. "Do you think she hated this place so much that she wanted to kill herself?"

Nick turned to him in surprise. "No way, someone must have chase her up there! Maybe, she got drunk, started saying some things and some random animal must have done that to her."

"Come on, she wasn't afraid of predators or anything. Do you think they camped out below and waited for her to die?" Finnick shook his head. "It's too weird."

Nick nodded in agreement. His eyes fell on a broken wooden fence, of a small farm owned by Fred the Ram and his family. They grew the vegetables of the town and Nick could always see him plowing the field in the hot weather. His ears went up in alarm, when he saw the fence and no Fred.

"Hey...hey stop the car, Fred's gone."

"What?" Finnick turned and saw the array of broken fences. He slammed on the breaks and they rushed out the door, yelling for Fred. Nick rushed to a small shack that was Fred's home and went inside. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, which made him go back outside to the field. Finnick's ears scanned the area for any sign of Fred or his family. The two foxes knew that Fred had only one truck and that was parked right next to the shack, making the two turn nervous when they couldn't find him or the rest of his herd.

Nick's nose recoiled when a putrid stench infiltrated his nostrils. His eyes went back to the broken fences, surrounding a patch of dry dirt. He went forward and peered inside.

There was meat and blood everywhere.

Nick stumbled back to Finnick, who quickly saw what made him jump back. The two immediately turned to each other.

"What is going on?" Finnick whispered in horror. The two backed away, their eyes scanning the farm for any signs of life.

"Hey, look its Fred's hat." Nick said, walking over to a hole in the ground. The hat sat there in the middle of the hole, making Nick pick it up the tan colored hat. A face in the ground stared back at Nick. He screamed out when he saw the dissevered head of the ram, with his mouth open as if he was silently screaming. His dead yellow eyes staring back at Nick.

"What is going on?!" Nick screamed. "What is going on?!" He demanded, tossing the hat aside. It was time to go.

Nick and Finnick raced back to the truck. Finnick slammed on accelerator, kicking up dust and rocks as they drove down the empty highways. Nick was running his paws up and down his face, wiping off the streams of sweat, trying to evaluate what he had just seen. Finnick, on the other paw, couldn't stop shaking. Foxes of his type always seem to put up a front, but after seeing something like Fred's head in the ground, put him on edge.

"Okay new plan!" Finnick began, his knuckles turning white by how hard he was clutching the metal wheel. "We need to head into town, call the cops, have them catch this murdering psycho and then, we're outta here!"

Nick rubbed his hands nervously. "Ah geez, it might be one of those highway serial killers. We have to tell everyone in Perfection, maybe Honey could lend them some guns to protect themselves."

"Yeah, yeah...we will."

They went down a curve, a mile out of Perfection, and saw two porcupine highway workers. One was breaking the road with a jackhammer while the other, stood to the side. Finnick drove up to them, shouting over the jackhammer's noise.

"Hey! Hey! You two need to get outta here!"

The second worker nudged his companion making him turn off the machine and take off his ear plugs. He squinted his eyes at the screaming fox in confusion.

"What?"

"There's a killer on the loose! A real psycho! He's cutting animal's heads off! You got to get out of here!" With the warning planted, Finnick continued to drive towards town, leaving the two workers to glance at each other.

The porcupine with the Jackhammer, Lenny, waved their warning aside as he put back on his yellow ear plugs.

"They're pulling our chains!" He kicked the jackhammer on and began breaking apart the pavement. The other Porcupine, Benny, wasn't so sure. He inches himself towards their vehicle and grabbed a crowbar, chuckling to himself.

"Yeah, I'm sure they're just pranking us…" He gently patted the head of the crowbar against his paw, his eyes looking down the road for anything suspicious. Lenny, broke away the asfault, making the metal needle dig itself deeper in the ground. As the needle buried itself into the earth, a harsh shriek rang through his ear plugs, making him pull the jackhammer up, in fear that he may had snapped it. He tugged at the machine, stucked into the ground and before he could ask Benny to help him, red liquid bubbled underneath his machine.

The jackhammer suddenly took off, dragged away down the street and breaking the pavement. Lenny saw the cable attached to the jackhammer wrap itself around his ankle and knock him down and began to drag him down the road. He screamed for help, gaining Benny's attention but he was powerless to stop the runaway jackhammer from dragging his friend up the rocky hill. His screams went silent as Benny ran up towards the rocky hill.

"Lenny! Lenny?!" His eyes widened when he saw the hill shook and a landslide baring down on him.


End file.
